


Smuggler's Run

by JonathanWolfe (Lucifer_Milton)



Series: Down the Rabbit Hole [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Comedy, Cussing, Darth Tantrum and his Evil Space Ginger, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Engineer Hux, Force User Kylo, Hux is more than he seems but still an uptight asshole, Kylo has questionable morals, Kylo is a sassy tantrum throwing little shit, M/M, No redemption, OC Droid - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possibly Dark in later chapters, Senator Hux, Slow Burn, Smuggler Kylo, Space Adventure, Still Evil Dicks in Space, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 03:58:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6889060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifer_Milton/pseuds/JonathanWolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a long moment Kylo sits in the chair and breathes, eyes still closed as his body subtly moves with the shifting of the ship. He doesn’t want to open them, doesn’t want to be faced with the reality of this mess he’s somehow stumbled into. Wants to trick himself into believing that the past four days have been nothing but a dream bordering on a full fledged nightmare.</p><p>When he does, though, nothing has changed. Vax is still sat beside him, the Epsilon is still on course, fleeing from Mon Inta and the First Order, and there is still a suspicious crate on board his ship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smuggler's Run

**Author's Note:**

> [REUPLOAD] Originally to be my Kylux Big Bang entry but since dropped out due to time constraints. 
> 
> Honestly, I just want to put this somewhere because I had 16k words done for my first draft check in, and three months worth of notes and backstory, and I don't want to just flush all the work I've put into this down the toilet just because I dropped out. So, essentially, I'm just dumping it here in case people are actually interested in reading it?
> 
> As always, comments are wonderful <3
> 
> (Kudos to my beta's who helped me out in the beginning. Especially my good friend Cylin.)

“Twenty five thousand units.”  
  


“We negotiated for fifteen!”  
  


“Yes, but that was before you hauled some high–tech crate on board my ship and insisted on not telling me anything about it.”  
  


The crate alone seems to scream ‘suspicious’ in bold red letters.  
  


“Consider it hazard pay if whatever it is you’re paying me to haul breaks loose and decides I look like a tasty meal.”  
  


The men he’s dealing with exchange wary looks.  
  


_ Wonderful, not only are they amateurs, but they’re also mentally deficient.  
  
_

Kylo sighs, fed up with the exchange already. It’s not like he has all day to bum around with the dredge of this station. He’s low on credits and needs repairs and these morons look just on the side of ‘desperate enough’ for him to push for a little bit more pay.  
  


Not to mention he’s deep in Hutt territory and he’d rather not stick around for much longer. So the quicker he can get this mess negotiated, the quicker he can get the repairs done and be on his way.  
  


_ For stars sake. Do they think I’m an idiot?  
  
_

“Vax, would you do the honors of enlightening our friends here?”  
  


At his side Vax stands rigid and alert, his specialized rifle blaster held at the ready close to his metal chest. Kylo can hear the soft whir of his servos, the slight clank as his joints move as Vax directs his attention to the crate. The voice modulator is deep in tone when the droid finally speaks; a sound that grates and intimidates. “Model C-01 Life-Sustaining Stasis Crate. Typically used to transport wildlife specimens. Manufactured by–”  
  


Kylo cuts the droid off with a touch to his shoulder. “As I said,” he fires a lopsided smirk their way, “hazard pay.”  
  


The leader finally gives in and nods, obviously ready to just be rid of the thing.  
  


The ease in which he’s just sharked these men into a higher cut is enough to send the alarm bells ringing through his head again – and _pfassk_ , he hadn’t even needed to influence their minds – but Kylo ignores it. He needs the money and he’s not about to pass up this opportunity. Especially with the sort of ores and minerals they’re claiming to have in payment.  
  


With that much on hand he could repair the Epsilon twice over and still have some to spare.  
  


_ Maybe I’ll indulge in a nice dinner before we leave.  _ Stars, he was so sick of the rations he’d been eating on for the past month. There were only so many ways to dress up dried serrun roots and tough, salty tuhmet jerky before you felt like you were going to go nuts with the lack of variety.  
  


So needless to say, Kylo feels like he’s struck  _ platinum _ when the man reaches out and shakes his hand, sealing the deal.  
  


“Twenty–five thousand then.”  
  


Kylo smirks, dangerous and victorious, as he pulls his hand away, “I want ten up front.”  
  


“What?!”  


* * *

  
  


The men leave after they deposit the ten thousand units on board and Kylo has taken the time to look the precious metals over, scanning them for authenticity before they depart. Because he is, again, not an idiot when it comes to the underhanded business of smuggling, especially in the Outer Rim territories. Kylo has had idiots try to swindle him in the past and he’s rather thankful these particular morons were at least smart enough not to do so. The last time someone had tried, it had taken countless scourings to wash the blood off the inside walls of the Epsilon.  
  


It’d almost made killing those rival smugglers not even worth it.  
  


_ Almost _ .  
  


He ran a gloved hand through the wild throws of his hair, peering down at the crate. It really does scream suspicious and he chews on his bottom lip as he kneels down next to it.  
  


“Vax,” the droid turns its head to regard him, the shine of its yellow eye slits meeting his own apprehensive gaze, “scan the contents would you? I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with here.”  
  


“Of course.”  
  


Kylo listens with one ear to the gentle click and the near inaudible hum as Vax begins scanning the crate. His attention, though, is riveted on the side where the control panel lays; on a green blip of light that periodically flashes.  
  


Beneath it are letters, lit up white against a dark background:  STABLE.  
  


He drags his gloved thumb along the sharp edge, hovering above the panel. The crate itself is expertly crafted, made of a multitude of fine seams and rounded corners, shiney durasteel that’s unscuffed enough that it practically looks newly bought.  _ Maybe it is.  
  
_

“Sentient life form. By the shape of the scans it appears to be humanoid in origin.”  
  


“You’re kidding.”  
  


Vax glances over at him, and if the droid had a proper face with movable features, Kylo is certain there would be an eyebrow cocked sarcastically at him. “No, it’s a baby rathtar, sir. I’m sure it would make an entertaining pet as it chews through your ankles.”  
  


Kylo rolls his eyes and scoffs quietly under his breath, considering the crate again. The side of his thumb taps repetitively against the edge of it, beating out a soft rhythm.  
  


_ Humanoid. So what, they’ve stuffed some poor hapless fool in a crate and are shipping them off to stars knows where?  _ A slave, no doubt, and he recalls that he’d been very adamant on never getting involved with the slave trading business. Yet here he is, with a crate, housing what is likely some exotic, pleasure slave for some rich, pretentious lord on some far away planet and –  _ kriffing hell.  
  
_

Kylo curses beneath his breath and rises from his crouch to pace the short hallway. He passes Vax once, twice, before the droid speaks up.  
  


“Sir?”  
  


“What the hell am I to do with this?” Kylo motions with a jerk of his hand, turning on his heel in the same motion to continue wearing a path in the alusteel under his boots.  
  


Vax glances down at the crate, then back up to Kylo, and as if it’s obvious, answers, “Deliver it.”  
  


And it really was as simple as that, because they need the precious ores to pay for repairs, and if he pulls out of this deal – which is something he’s  _ never _ had to do and he’s  _ proud _ of it – the Epsilon would remain in her dilapidated state. Meaning they’d be stranded on this stars forsaken station for who knows how long, forced to peddle stolen wares just to get by.  
  


_ No thanks.  
  
_

They wouldn’t survive long, he knows that much.  
  


So in the end, there’s only one thing Kylo  _ can _ do.  
  


He gives a resigned sigh as he comes to a halt, dragging his hand through his hair again. “Get the lift, we'll store it in compartment B.”  
  


_ This day just keeps getting better and better.  
_

* * *

  
  


Over the next three days it becomes a recurring theme of checking the crate periodically, making sure the status lit up on its panel still reads stable. Kylo checks it far more often than he really should but he doesn't want to take any chances with what may be in it, humanoid or not.  
  


While the repair crew works at fixing the damage to the hull of the Epsilon, he peers in at it, despite knowing how risky it is when there's so many people around. But he finds the mysterious urge nearly impossible to resist.  
  


It gets so bad that he wakes up a few times during the night just to stand outside the compartment, frowning at it as if it’s disappointed him somehow. Which is ridiculous, really.  
  


The only time he finally leaves the crate alone is when he leaves the Epsilon, dragging Vax along with him; both to keep him company and to also watch his back.  
  


It’s a short walk from the hangar to the main deck of the station. When they reach the main floor, Kylo hesitates in the archway leading further in.  
  


Mon Inta Station is, for lack of a better word, a cluster-fuck of stalls. They’re crammed together along the stretch of the massive hallway that makes up the spine of the space station, leaving barely any room to walk with all of the denizens milling around.  
  


Above them a dome of transparisteel runs the length, allowing an unfettered view of the planet it orbits and the stars scattered across the black canvas of space.  
  


It's a hive of activity, and it takes a moment for Kylo to tamp down the influx of thoughts and emotions rolling into him. And when they begin to feel less like a roaring tidal wave and more like a soft, barely there murmur, he sighs with relief.  
  


Kylo studies the crowd, glancing over the mixture of different alien species to see if anyone has noticed their entrance. There are a few stares that settle on them, but they immediately turn away, uninterested.  
  


He allows himself to relax a little, to know they're not in immediate danger, but it doesn't mean they won't run into it later. As a precaution he draws up the hood he wears to aid in concealing his face, the black material coarse and heavy where it brushes against the edge of his cheekbone.  
  


The Hutt's are notorious for employing bounty hunters, and Kylo's fairly certain he still has a bounty or two riding on his head. Not so large that he'd have hoards of them chasing his ass around the galaxy, but enough that it'd make for a nice bit of pocket change for any bounty hunter that may be in the area.  
  


Kylo glances back at Vax and takes a steadying breath. "Stay close."  
  


Vax doesn't reply. Never does. Only nods and follows him as they step toward the crowd, weaving through a couple of rodians arguing over what looks like power converters to step into the mass.  
  


The wares they pass by are eccentric and varied, more so than he's seen in awhile since he usually tends to avoid the more populated stations. It's rather nice to have so many options to choose from as Kylo stops at a few and picks up a few things he'll need. He pays for the cheaper stuff and haggles for the rest, not ashamed to use a few well placed mind tricks to coerce the more stubborn vendors.  
  


Halfway into their day, just as Kylo's about to hit up one of the food places for a proper meal to celebrate the finished repairs, a commotion arises at the end of the massive corridor.  
  


Everyone seems to be trying to glance over one another to see what it is, and when he finally does, he feels his blood run cold.  
  


Soldiers, six of them, clad in white plastoid with black visors. They march through the corridor, their footfalls loud in the ensuing silence. The crowd parts for them, too shaken by their appearance to do anything save step aside.  
  


Kylo turns his back as they near, his fingers tugging his hood further forward until they pass. In his chest his heart beats a panicked rhythm against his rib cage.  
  


_ What in the kriff is the First Order doing this far out?  
  
_

He glances around the edge of his hood to watch them disappear through a doorway.  
  


"Sir."  
  


Kylo lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and focuses on Vax.  
  


"We should return to the ship. Immediately."  
  


Kylo doesn't have to be told twice. It's time to leave. They've wasted enough time on this station and now that the First Order has suddenly dropped in, he doesn't want to stick around to find out what they're here for.  
  


When they clamber aboard the Epsilon, Kylo finds himself standing in front of compartment B again while Vax readies for their departure. He hesitates, pressing his lips into a thin line, before he reaches forward to press his fingertips against the edge of the metal panel.  
  


For all intents and purposes it's simply a part of the structural beam built right into the circular hallway, but when his nails catch just right, under the slight lip around the edge, it pops free.  
  


Behind it the crate still sits, ominously quiet.  
  


It still unsettles him. Even more so now that a remnant of his past has just marched back into his life.  
  


"You're fixated on it."  
  


Kylo startles as his head snaps around, panel still held in his hands. "Stars, don't do that," he hisses. He hadn't even heard Vax approach and – hell, had he really been that engrossed with it?  
  


"Apologies." Vax stands, watching him with that sort of stillness only droids are capable of. It had used to unnerve Kylo, but he's long grown used to it.  
  


The panel slides back into place with a loud snap.  
  


"Vax–" he pauses, hands placed flat against the thin piece of alusteel, the warmth of his hands cooled by the chill of it. It's there, niggling at the back of his mind like an itch he can't scratch, insistent and grating, but he has no word for it, aside from an acute  _ wrongness _ that persists even as he steps back.  
  


Abruptly that alarm intensifies, wailing like a klaxon in the back of his mind as Kylo turns sharply, obviously panicked as he runs full sprint towards the front of the ship. The stands of his hair dance around his head when he turns the corner and all but launches himself across the pilot chair to look through the cockpit'sviewports. His hands clench around the leather of the seat when he sees the flash of white filing in from the hallway outside.  
  


There’s a bone deep horror that sweeps over him, then, a realization that these stormtroopers are clearly looking for something,  _ and that ‘something’ was on board this very ship _ .  
  


It had been a foolish decision to take the deal, and the ensuing fallout was quick to send his entire world spiraling into a hellish whirlwind of shitty situations. Now it was just a matter of deciding on whether to flee, or to stand their ground.  
  


Kylo wasn’t comfortable with either choice, because if he bolted from the hangar it would paint a target on his back and the last thing he needed was an organization as well-funded and as powerful as the Order to be breathing down his neck. But if he allowed them to board the Epsilon, he ran the risk of them finding that damned crate hidden onboard his ship. And again, he’d be hunted down like a wild grantaloupe.  
  


The closer the troopers near, the more unsettled Kylo gets, until there’s a sudden crash as he slams his fist down on the console closest to him. Next to him Vax doesn’t react. The droid seems unfazed with the destruction, as if it’s used to such displays of rampant emotion.  
  


There’s a shower of sparks as the thin metal dents beneath the force of it, buttons blinking in and out before going dark. Kylo hisses at the pain that shoots through his hand and counts himself lucky that the sharp pieces of metal hadn’t drawn blood.  
  


The pain works to clear his head.  
  


”Follow me,” Kylo demands with a growl. He becomes a flurry of movement as he turns on his heel and brushes past Vax, striding back through the ship. As he stalks through the hall he checks things over with a critical eye, the cogs in his head starting to turn.  
  


_ Come on, think damnit.  _ _ Think.  
  
_

In the middle of the hallway he suddenly crouches and reaches down, tracing his fingers over the seam of one of the floor panels. It takes him only seconds to pry one of the alusteel sheets loose from the pathway, revealing yet another empty  compartment beneath.  
  


“What are you planning to do?”  
  


The question is curious and confused. It draws Kylo’s attention from where he’s straightened up and is looking wildly around. “Averting their attention,” he answers distractedly, stepping to the side and into the ship's small cargo area.  
  


_ Pfassk _ , he needed it if this was going to work.  
  


“Sir?”  
  


He shoves one of the crates open and begins to go through the contents, pushing various items aside.  
  


“Sir.”  
  


Not there. Where the  _ hell _ had he put it? They were getting closer and -  _ stars sakes _ he should’ve put it somewhere closer, somewhere where he could kriffing find it and -  
  


“Master Ren!”  
  


Kylo’s head snaps up from where he’d been rummaging through the crates littering the cargobay. “Don’t call me that!”  
  


Vax seems to huff with the way his mechanical shoulders sharply rise and fall. “If you’re looking for the spice, it’s over there,” the droid says, pointing over Kylo’s shoulder.  
  


Kylo turns and follows the direction in which the droid is pointing and lets out a relieved breath, “Oh kriffing hell, Vax,  _ thank you _ .” He reaches up and grabs the small crate before booking it back out into the hallway, refusing to acknowledge the way he stumbles inelegantly to the floor to drop the spice into the empty compartment.  
  


Just as it settles on the bottom, there’s a loud bang, the sound of a closed fist pounding at the underside of the ramp, followed by a muffled command to open.  
  


Kylo spares one last glance to Vax who is, thankfully, standing unthreatening to the side, before he lowers the compartments lid back into place, leaving it to where there’s one corner slightly raised.  
  


“Will it work?” Vax asks, head turned towards Kylo.  
  


Kylo hesitates for a moment before admitting, “We’ll just have to see won’t we?” He ignores the unsure edge of his tone as he walks over to stand next to Vax.  
  


Honestly, Kylo has no idea if it will. Doesn’t know if this little gamble will work in their favor, or wind up with him in shackles and Vax erased and reprogrammed (and honestly, the latter doesn’t sit well with him at all, because while he can escape and be freed, there’s no gaining back Vax’s memories). Either way, they’re both potentially screwed.  
  


He orders Vax to the cargo bay to power down and remain inconspicuous for the time being. Once the droid is out of sight Kylo presses a button on the panel behind him and turns to watch the ramp begin to lower.  
  


The hydraulics hiss and squeal unpleasantly, metal grinding on metal where the large piece of steel unfolds to reveal the group of stormtroopers standing just outside.  
  


When the dull thud of metal meeting concrete breaks the silence, the troopers march aboard and immediately tug him aside with a rifle blaster pressing into his back. Kylo makes an offended sound as he’s shoved against a wall.  
  


_ Well, they certainly mean business.  
  
_

Kylo relaxes a little when he’s pushed back against the compartment housing the suspicious crate. With his body blocking it, then the chance of the troopers stumbling across it is significantly lower. He tries not to let the relief show. Instead he keeps a steady hold on the nervous edge and the slight panic still sparking through his mind, using them to shroud himself in a mask of ‘ _someone who’s clearly trying to hide something, but clearly failing to_ ’. Because that’s _exactly_ what he needs them to think; all they need to do is take the bait.  
  


“Is there a problem?” Kylo asks, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.  
  


One of the troopers turns towards him and lifts its rifle, “Remain quiet.”  
  


_ Nice to know they’ve been taught proper manners, _ he thinks snidely.  
  


Kylo shrugs his shoulders and lifts his hands in a placating gesture, “Look, I just want to know what’s going on, alright?”  
  


The trooper seems to run to the end of his patience as he steps closer, pressing the tip of the blaster rifle against Kylo’s sternum.  
  


_ Oh, okay, now we’re getting serious.  
  
_

Kylo falls quiet at that, not willing to risk egging this short-tempered stormtrooper on with more questions. He’s done what he aimed to do anyway, so now all he has to do is wait.  
  


From where they stand Kylo can hear the sound of things clattering to the ground, filling the otherwise strained silence, and Kylo nearly curses when he realizes that these troopers will turn his ship on its head during their search. Which means -  _ Ah, hell  _ \- his ship is going to look like a kriffing mess when they’re finished.  
  


Kylo groans quietly with exasperation, shoulders slumping as he tries to lean sideways to see where they are. A rough hand stops him though.  
  


“I said  _ be quiet. _ ”  
  


Kylo presses his lips into a thin line and glares back at the trooper.  
  


The minutes stretch endlessly until finally, nearly a half an hour later, there’s an abrupt silence. One of the stormtroopers, who had been searching, appears from the corner that Kylo had been trying to peek around and approaches them.  
  


“Sir, there’s nothing here.”  
  


Kylo looks between them, watching silently as the rather handsy fellow standing in front of him looks over his shoulder. It’s clear that they expected to not find anything, so what follows next is of no surprise to him.  
  


“Check for hidden compartments.”  
  


Hearing it though still drives a spike of panic through him as he watches the other trooper turn on their heel, pulling out a scanner Kylo hadn’t noticed them carrying. He lets out a slow breath and watches them walk of sight, hoping against all hope that it’ll pick up the vacant spots in the floorboards and not the one behind him.  
  


He waits and he waits, feeling like he’ll vibrate right out of his skin with the rise of adrenaline pumping through him, the increasing worry running rampant through his head, until finally -  _ finally _ \- there’s a raised voice calling out.  
  


A hand wraps around his shoulder and pushes, making him stumble along the walkway as he’s slowly shepherded through the ship to where the searching troopers are now stood, looming over the open compartment he’d purposefully left askew.  
  


“There are seven other compartments, all spread throughout this section of the ship, sir.”  
  


“Open them.”  
  


Kylo watches them reach down and peel each panel back, revealing the additional empty compartments. And kriffing hell, he almost wishes he had more contraband to help throw them off the scent.  
  


“The rest are empty, sir.”  
  


The trooper, which Kylo assumes is their captain, turns to him then and pushes Kylo closer to the compartment with the crate of spice hidden inside. “Search the rest of the ship. This can’t be all there is.”  
  


_ Pfassk!  _ “Look, it’s just a little bit of spice, alright? Nothing to get worked up about-”  
  


“I said  _ quiet _ !”  
  


Kylo grunts when the butt of a blaster nails him between the shoulder blades, making him stumble. His kneecaps slam against the alusteel making him hiss around the stinging pain because  _ stars does it hurt _ , the way it jolts through his thighs and up his spine. And he knows he shouldn’t, but he throws a glare over his shoulder at the captain anyway, hands raised over his head in surrender in hopes of warding off anymore abuse.  
  


He can’t run the risk of coercing their minds through the force no matter how much he wants to, because as stupid as they may be, it’s too many minds for Kylo to focus on all at once and while he’s fairly good at pulling the whole ‘jedi-mind trick’ as Luke had called it, he can’t risk it not working. Not this time.  
  


And on the other hand, he really wants nothing more than to reach for his blaster or for the vibro dagger hidden in his boot and turn on the troopers, but he knows that wouldn’t do him any good either. The odds are too finicky on whether he’d live or not, so he doesn’t chance it. Instead he waits, lowering his hands slowly as he settles into a more comfortable position on the walkway.  
  


Thankfully he doesn’t have to wait long before the captain’s troopers are returning.  
  


“Sir, the scanners show no other hidden compartments on board the ship.”  
  


Kylo can’t hold back the internal sigh of relief. He’s infinitely glad that he had a compartment made separate from the others, and in such a place that it wouldn’t be picked up. And even more grateful that these particular stormtroopers are apparently of the ‘idiotic and oblivious’ sort. He rolls his eyes and turns his glare to the floor, waiting for what they’ll do next; waiting to see whether or not they’ll hand him over to the authorities.  
  


Realistically, they’d cuff him and haul him away, since he is, afterall, a smuggler. And with the fact they’d just found an illegal batch of spice on board his ship, well...  
  


But if his hunch was right…  
  


_ Kriffing hell, please be right.  
  
_

There’s a tense pause, where Kylo holds his breath, not daring to look up or make eye contact as he listens with a strained ear. Not that he has to, with them standing this close, but he’s deathly afraid that he’ll miss something for some reason.  
  


Perhaps it’s more that he’s listening for the faint click of their rifles, the shift of plastoid as their arms raise, aiming their blasters down at him. Because he knows it’s plausible. After all, no one would notice one lone smuggler going missing on a station such as this. If the stormtroopers chose to fire a bolt into the back of his head, the security on Mon Inta wouldn’t blink an eye. In fact, chances are they’d just flush his corpse out of an airlock and sell his ship to the highest bidder.  
  


That particular scenario is not unheard of in his line of work; smuggling could be cruel and unforgiving.  
  


When the silence is finally broken, it’s to the sound of the captain ordering them to clear out. Apparently he’s not worth the effort of killing or being hauled into the authorities.  
  


Kylo watches them go, listening from where he sits as their boots stomp down the ramp and fade away.  
  


Once they’re out of range, he slowly leans forward onto his forearms and allows himself to take a deep breath.  
  


A soft bubble of laughter breaks through at the edges, tinted with a crazed sense of elation and abject fear. Kylo’s never been that close to capture, and possibly death, before and he feels high with the exuberance of still being  _ alive _ .  
  


Stars, he hadn’t thought it would work, but it had.  _ It had.  
  
_

The manic laughter slowly fades, replaced by a resigned sense of determination. They needed to leave, now, while there’s a window of opportunity, because Kylo knows it'll only be a matter of time before the Order finds out he'd tricked them.  
  


Kylo had damned himself to being hunted down by the First Order, and all because of some stupid crate. What has his life become?  
  


“Vax!” he calls out, hearing the shift of heavy metal footsteps working their way toward him. When the droid comes into view he feels something ease in him, “I think it’s about time we left, whatya say?” a lopsided smile pulls at Kylo’s lips.  
  
  
“I’d say it’s about damn time, sir.”  
***

**Author's Note:**

> Open to criticism, so long as it's useful and not people just telling me to not do this or not do that because you, personally, do not like it. Be helpful and courteous and I'd be more than happy to consider and apply your ideas/suggestions. <3
> 
> And feel free to hit me up on [tumblr](http://evilspacetrash.tumblr.com/).


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